


Nurture

by AndreaLyn



Category: Tin Man (2007)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-24 14:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4923097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AndreaLyn/pseuds/AndreaLyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No one was sure what they were supposed to do when the O.Z. came back together. That was how Glitch wound up caring for a baby.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nurture

Things in the O.Z. were slow to come back to order, which meant that people were performing tasks outside their area of expertise, simply because all hands were needed to accomplish all tasks.  
  
This was how Glitch wound up caring for an infant. The child was of great import, some noble’s son. The parents had gone missing, but the baby was too important to simply let go to an orphanage, especially with the O.Z. still in so much disarray.   
  
He had help, oh, of course he had help because if he didn’t, he’d worry about glitching and forgetting the very existence of the baby. The Queen would sing lullabies to the child in the most beautiful and haunting of voices and Ahamo would feed it meals. Cain made sure the baby boy had adequate toys – that weren’t choking hazards – and DG came by to make sure he was burped and changed. When night rolled around, however, it was Glitch who put the boy to sleep in his crib and told him all the stories he could remember and all the ones he couldn’t and some of the ones that were half-remembered, too.   
  
It was odd.   
  
Not because Glitch was terrible or a bad Dad or anything like that. No, the strange thing was that he actually had something of a talent when it came to it. He instinctively knew when to nurture, when to care, when love was needed as opposed to food or changing. It was almost like a machine and he had the instruction booklet memorized back and forth and was capable of not only caring for a child, but loving him and making sure his every need was met.   
  
“Here we go,” he spoke to the boy (whom he had named ‘Adair’, if only in the eyes of his close social circle) and then waltzed around the palace floors with grace while big hazel eyes peered into Glitch’s own brown ones and they talked and danced and walked the world, exploring its many paths and discovering new things together.  
  
When the time came for Glitch to part with little Adair, he had been hesitant to let go, unwilling to let his hands slip away, even if he honestly knew that half a brain was a half too few to really raise a child properly on his own. Glitch had pleaded to have one last moment and as he sat with Adair in the large cushioned chair near the doors, he thought quickly as to what he ought to say for a goodbye that would never be remembered.   
  
“You’ll have a wonderful family,” Glitch promised optimistically, giving a nervous laugh. “I mean, what kind of father am I? I’d probably, well, I’d probably forget to pick you up from school all the time and I’d never remember your birthday, not with this mess of s-synapses!”  
  
Adair gave a coo and babble in reply, tiny fingers grabbing hold of his coat and tugging on it hard.  
  
“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Glitch begged under his breath, heartbreak in his eyes and he pressed one last kiss to Adair’s forehead – covered in golden hairs – and didn’t dally as he delivered the boy to the Aunt and Uncle, there to collect on their family’s behalf. He was their family by right and Glitch had only been caretaker by circumstance. He shared a lingering look with the family as they took the boy from Glitch’s arms, but they couldn’t stop staring at the zipper. It made Glitch so absolutely short-tempered and he wanted to snap that he was the one making sure their boy was healthy and safe and that they ought to be  _grateful_  for him.   
  
He didn’t, though. Why give zipperheads an even worse name?  
  
“Do you know what you’re going to name him?” Glitch asked curiously, his eyes refusing to leave the boy’s form as his Aunt cradled him close and swathed him in silk-blankets.   
  
“John, we think,” was the loving reply.  
  
Glitch felt as if the smile he wore on his face would be the epitome of a heart-breaking in tangible form, if he only had a mirror to check. “John,” he repeated weakly. “Very…strong name.”   
  
They left and behind them, the heavy palace doors were shut, extinguishing all traces of sunlight from the hall and leaving Glitch in the shadows -- _alone_  for the first time in weeks. He stood there in the darkness for nearly an hour and wondered where they would be, by now, if he would have a safe bed when darkness fell and dismissed any and all paranoia. He was safe and he was with family (not to mention, a  _rich_  family). Picking up his feet to move felt like a Sisyphus-like chore and he went to the only place he had known besides his room in the cavernous home that housed so many of his friends.   
  
The library was a grand and sprawling room and it was in a current state of disorder. It made Glitch feel at home because once upon a time it had been a thing of envy, of knowledge, of order. Now it was just a mess with nothing in the right order and papers ripped out of their respective books.  
  
The Queen was sitting and waiting for him and he nearly jumped upon seeing her.  
  
“My Queen!” he gasped, hand over his heart. “You gave me a…well, you nearly made me drop dead of a heart attack,” he nervously blurted out. “Guess you couldn’t knock, seeing as you were already inside.”   
  
“I thought I might find you here,” she said, clasping a folder within her hands. “I heard that today was the day that dear Adair returned home.”  
  
“John,” Glitch corrected. “His name is John, now.”  
  
“I wanted you to know that you were and  _are_  a wonderful father, Ambrose,” the Queen said in that way she had of making just about anyone believe her words to be truth, even if they were the most ridiculous pieces of fiction.  
  
Glitch kept his eyes on the ceramic tiles of the floor, not daring to look up until the Queen gently pushed his chin upwards, pressing the folder into his hands.   
  
“I found this amidst my things,” she explained. “I wanted you to know how very much you did for DG with not only your intelligence, but your keen talent at nurturing, at being a good  _father_.” Glitch opened up the papers and even though his brain wasn’t chugging along as best as it could, it didn’t take that much to understand what he was looking at.  
  
“Is this… these are…”  
  
“The prototype plans for the Nurture Units, yes,” the Queen concurred. “I knew when assigning such a project that it would require the best person for the job and Ambrose. Dear Glitch,” she said, words brimming with such love, “you have always been the proper man for that job. Do not despair because Adair has left us. There is much left for you to do, even if it seems bleak now, as it must have seemed when you sent my angel with Hank and Em.”  
  
Glitch stared at the words on the paper, not understanding why they were blurring and growing incomprehensible until he understood that he was crying.   
  
He looked up at the Queen with teary-eyes and felt more lucid than he had in a very long time. “We had so much taken from us,” he said, gravely. “And I always imagined that one day, somehow, one day I would get the chance to not only provide the nurturing and basics that a child needed, but to be there for them all their life.”  
  
The Queen took hold of his hand and gave it the lightest of squeezes as she bowed her head to him. “Don’t linger too long, Glitch,” she said, gracefully making her exit. “DG would like to see you to show you the new things she’s found and,” she added with a secretive, knowing smile, “to ask you questions about the O.Z. You aren’t done caring for children just yet.”  
  
“No, I guess not,” he agreed and some of Glitch’s earlier optimism snuck back into his voice and even allowed him to smile brilliantly.   
  
With that, Glitch turned his attention back to the mess of the library, eyes skimming over the bent loose-leaf pages and the waterlogged encyclopedias, fingers skimming dusty tables and broken bookshelves.  
  
“Maybe it’s about time to start tidying this place…”


End file.
